


A tiny spark of hope

by RoleplayFanfics



Series: Live acting recaptions [1]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson, Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Dear Evan Hansen Fusion, Anal Sex, Based on a Dear Evan Hansen Song, Connor Murphy deserves better, Connor Murphy needs a hug, Depressed Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Fluff, Gay Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Smut, Songwriter Evan Hansen, alive connor murphy, alternative storyline, alternative universe, referenced homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-04-21 22:36:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14294943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoleplayFanfics/pseuds/RoleplayFanfics
Summary: "“Evan. EVAN,-.... I’m gay!”What.It felt like another bubble of glass just shattered around him, like he had heard something that simply didn’t fit with the rest of the puzzle of the situation, like some world changing fact that made him lose footing in his argument completely.“Wha-.. uh… wh…”Where had his arguments gone? What was he saying? He had no idea what to-... uh.There was an awkward silence for a moment, and something was clear, Connor’s emotions hadn’t settled. The storm that came next shook Evan beyond belief.“I’m gay, Evan. Gay, homo, fag, you fucking get it?” Was his voice cracking up…? Wha-... Connor sounded so hurt, so much… less intimidating than he usually did."





	1. Crash and Burn

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Sexual content, depression, mentionings of self-destructive behaviours and suicidal thoughts. However, it gets happier the more time passes ~ 
> 
> This little story is a recaption of an acting challenge that Nathan and Teddy decided upon together. This is an afternoon they spent in character, live action roleplaying, rehearsing and practicing to remain in character and find quick solutions.
> 
> Teddy is acting as Connor, Nathan is acting as Evan, and the whole thing is recapped by Nathan. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Neither of us have actually seen Dear Evan Hansen, but have listened to the soundtrack many times over. Hence, we made up a little story with changes based on the lyrics and what we know about the musical. The suicide attempt of Connor's had to be changed a little for it to make sense at all that he would be in a state of coma, with little to no hope of waking up, allowing for most of the musical content to proceed as the canon story.

It seemed that in all his fantasies and lies Evan Hansen had neglected to realise how the aftermath of sex with Connor Murphy would feel. Sure, fine. He was used to pain. He had imagined it so clearly when his ghost and creation would have turned him over, and scorned him, telling him just how disgusting and twisted he is, for all that he had done, crying out Connor’s name, begging for forgiveness, trying to explain that he just wanted someone, anyone, so badly; that he wished for it all to be real so badly, that he would have wanted Connor as a friend, a true friend. That had hurt, in his mind, and he had curled up under his blanket in tears, afterwards, ashamed for getting off to such a thing. 

It was technically Jared’s fault, he was the one who just kept on making Evan imagine what it would have been like if Connor had been more than his friend. He didn’t want to imagine it, Evan had just wanted a friend, and was probably just that sort of desperate and tragic, he knew that he was pathetic, and it probably suited him to be weak enough to think of the dead kid like that, think of his creation and illusion of Connor that way.    
  
It hurt to be so confused, to be stuck in between desire and guilt, to be crushed by the shame, but forcing himself to indulge in the pain, having no other way to deal with the overload of emotions.    
  
However, it always disappeared, it had always just disappeared after all those late night, after he had worked himself up to be tired enough to pass out, after he had woken up, he was… fine, all things considered.    
  
This. This was different.    
  
Waking up in Connor Murphy’s bed was different; his legs felt exhausted, his hips ached, and his body gave him every reminder of that he had indeed had sex with the young man of all those projections of his, with the real deal.    
  
It was… nauseating. Evan’s stomach twisted and he curled together further, burying his face in one of the pillows of the unnecessarily large bed. Everything smelled like the real deal, which partly smelled like smoke, and it was disgusting. He never really thought that he could feel worse than he had, when he got caught in the web of his own lies, never thought that he could feel more guilty, yet, here he was. The worst part was probably that Connor didn’t tell on him, and hadn’t exposed him at all, instead, the other was rolling with it, making use of hurting him and reminding him of just how much he had fucked up… Worst of all, Evan knew that he deserved every bit of it.   
  
Connor Murphy was alive. Wasn’t that just a miracle. Yes…. actually, Evan could never imagine wanting the boy dead, even if it meant that he could never have what he wanted. He would never have managed to bear the guilt if he had wanted Connor dead.    


The overdose of drugs had led to the boy falling into a coma, one that he wasn’t very likely to wake up from. He was more or less dead, and all the odds were against him. No one expected Connor to wake up, but the initiative, the project, the people that cared, they all prayed and hoped for it, still spreading the word so that no one would ever end up the same as said young man. The Murphy family still welcomed him, Zoe still loved him, and everything was just so good… Connor’s incident had led to more or less all of is life having been fixed, just like that.    
  
Then, the drug addict had woken up.    
  
Oh the joy, everyone were truly overjoyed, it was a miracle.    
  
Really, the real miracle was probably that Evan had not committed suicide upon hearing the news.

He was a nervous mess, desperately trying to find excuses to not having to face his supposed best friend. Desperately avoiding the Murphy family for a few days, for as long as he could. Avoiding to face his mom, pretending to be sick from school. His favourite spot by a nearby cliffside started to look more tempting than ever, remembering what it felt like to be weightless. Problem was that it was not higher than that tree, and he would probably not get it his way if he tried…. And it was terrifying, too terrifying. 

Larry was the one who found him, and there was no way he could say no to Mr. Murphy when he oh so worried checked on Evan, if he was fine, if he wasn’t sick anymore. Luckily, the man had seemed to mistake his distress for still not being all that well. Still, Evan had to be there for his best friend to be discharged, of course he had to… 

The white light of the hospital corridors had felt like a dream, like he was brought through the abyss to be dragged to the pits of Hell. Like everything he ever had wanted would be ripped out of his hands, it felt like this was the one way corridor to his personal execution. Yet in that hospital room he faced the real reflection of the young man he had invented, and the… fuck, yes, beautiful… eyes of the man looked surprisingly calm. It felt like a surreal joke when the other boy had smiled at him, and grabbed his hand, as if he actually depended on Evan, as if they were actually friends…    
  
There was a weak spark of hope inside Evan right at that moment, hoping that maybe, just maybe things would turn out fine.    
  
Oh how wrong he had been.    
  
The second he was left alone with Connor the truth came out. It had taken the revived kid some time, but he had gotten access to everything, the emails, the speeches, the stories from his parents, everything that proved just how big of a glass bubble the liar had created. Just like that, the glass shattered and Evan had, for the first time, encountered the real Connor Murphy, a complete stranger to him. Connor was furious, but then again, who wouldn’t be after having been used like that, for a pathetic kid like Evan to find false redemption. It was hard to tell if it was hatred, sadism or anger, but the other teenager made Evan suffer something worse than being exposed; he was forced to uphold the lie. The young man played his part of best friend, keeping Evan wrapped around his finger with the deadly ammunition of being able to expose him at any time. They were supposed to be inseparable friends, and Connor used every moment to remind him of just how ashamed he should be. 

_ “Break up with my sister, you don’t fucking deserve her.”  _ Funny, given how much contempt Connor seemed to hold for said sister… Yet, there was no way to go about it, to stop it.    
  
Part of Evan had probably hoped that she’d understand, that she’d fight, that she’d defend him in just anyway. Zoe got to know that everything he had said about her brother caring for her had been lies to get close to her, but not of the rest of all of it being a lie. Even after all her words of understanding him, of forgiving him for being as broken as he was, she had cried and said that she didn’t want to fucking see his face again, quite literally. It was surprising that he didn’t get slapped. Once more, that little spark of hope was crushed… she would never forgive him for this. Worse yet, he could not completely get away from her, and neither Zoe, nor he, could explain to their parents exactly why they broke up. Worst of all, he could not get away from the Murphy family, even then, Connor wouldn’t let his best friend go. It was evident that Connor hated his company, but slowly Evan learned that it was probably because Connor was now excused of everything, and because of how well everyone treated the kid, and how popular he had become, along with Evan, that he hadn’t exposed them both. He had never imagined that Connor would be the devil himself; Zoe’s hate for the young man had all become so clear now. 

Weakly and slowly, Evan sat up, avoiding to look at the naked frame of the upper back of said best friend, behind him on the bed. He went about searching, carefully, for his clothes, trying to keep himself from thinking of the nausea and guilt, from thinking of what would happen if Zoe was home… if she would have heard… oh god. His hands trembled weakly as he reached out towards the mess of clothes at the lower end of the bed.    
  
“Where the fuck are you going?”    
  
Evan froze in place, turning for a moment to notice the cold eyes staring at him, and that Connor had turned to look at him. The young man’s hair was… a mess. At least the other’s hair was as soft as he had imagined it… fuck, don’t think about it, don’t think about it! Nope, thought about it, definitely blushing, fuck, he felt ashamed… 

“I… think I should go home,” it felt like tar was pouring into his lungs, as if he was drowning on spot in the sea of something much stickier and heavier than water. 

“Why? You always stayed here all the time, anyway.” 

“I-... I want to go home.” 

The sex this time had been a little different, it had happened twice all in all, and it was equally shocking as the first time. Well, since he had found himself thinking of what it would have been like if Connor had been more than a friend, and just like he had dreamed so intensely of what their friendship could have been like, of Connor being anything but a monster, it could have been even more of a shock. Some of the heaviest shame was that attraction, some of the heaviest load, and how the other young man had pinpointed that shame, he had no idea. It felt like Connor knew of his attraction, why else would he pretend to be so close with him, and use him like this, at it.

The first time had been dangerously similar to some of his most shameful deepest desires and thoughts. Connor seemed to hate it, and well, Evan was used to people hating being out in the forest; he was the weirdo who enjoyed it so much, in a time where teenagers should be locked up in their room and play games, or be out with friends. Yet, the Murphy family found it splendid and wonderful to let both the boys spend time out in the sun, out in fresh air. Connor hated it. Definitely hated it. He made it very clear how lame it was at first… but slowly, at least they talked. It was forced, awkward, but it wasn’t aggressive. Connor asked him why he liked the forest, and he tried his best, despite his mind calling him a weirdo and all the things the other kids used to say, to explain why it was so calming and nice to be in a place like this where no one else would be, to be alone and safe in a place that wasn’t his room or part of his daily life. 

It had worked, Connor seemed to level with him a little. It wasn’t always horrible to be around the young man, Connor was unpredictable, but usually the one of the two to strike up conversations. Sometimes, sometimes rarely, it almost felt like they could have been friends. Having understood most of the truth, Connor already knew what a broken mess his supposed best friend was, and there was nothing to hide, really… Then… Evan fucked up again. He shouldn’t have spoken. He didn’t know exactly where it went wrong, but suddenly they were at talking about Cynthia Murphy and her caring ways, and her kindness and the safety of that house. He really believed that Connor should appreciate what he had, he was so jealous that it felt like someone was stabbing his chest when the actual son of that household seemed to hold no respect for or cherish what he had, all that Evan had ever dreamed of… 

It got worse, talking about emails again, and before he knew it, Connor had shocked him by being surprisingly close, and touching him, holding him still, making fun of his strong reactions, of his embarrassment, of his growing erection. It was like a work of fiction, like all those times he had fantasized on his own, trying to handle his shame. He couldn’t say no to Connor, he didn’t deserve to say no, he didn’t defend himself. Instead, he let the other boy take him, while messing with him about how he’d dirty his beloved trees and nature, and how much it seemed to turn such a forest fetishist on to be fucked outside in the forest. He was wrong… wrong… wrong… but it felt good, hurting, and felt good. So good to cry so desperately and get an outlet for all that he felt. 

Connor was a monster, he should not have forgotten. Ungrateful, hateful, rude, cruel…

Why did they have to see each other pretty much every day? After that day, Connor had been a lot more touchy when they were alone, some cruel sort of almost too kind way that only hurt and confused Evan. He wasn’t even gay, it was just Connor who had this damn effect on him… This horrid upper hand.

Yesterday, they had been alone in the Murphy household, because the parents would be out for two days, and wouldn’t want poor Connor to be alone, after all that he had been through. There was no way Evan could look at Cynthia and Larry, and not promise them that he would be there with their son. It hadn’t been… that horrible. He was used to being guilty, and uncomfortable. Having listened to a little music, having played some games and watched some videos almost made it feel like they were friends, until Connor had dragged him to bed and made his intentions very clear.    
  
“You told mom and dad that you would stay.” 

“Still… I’m going home.” Find resolve. Strange as it felt to admit, he was getting a little used to handling the monster of a man, getting used to being around him.    
  
What happened next confused him. Instead of arguing back, instead of guilt-tripping him, Connor just glared at him, looking more… hurt than angry, what-...? Eh. How… Connor looked disappointed. Said male just got up and out of the bed, right past the still naked Evan, who weakly sat up on his knees, observing as the other threw on a shirt and random slackers, that he found on the floor, completely ignoring the mess of a man on the bed. Was he… allowed to go? Of course he was allowed to go… He was the one that hadn’t managed to say no, he could refuse Connor, he knew that he could… he was just so scared of the consequences, and so ashamed, and… being alone again, as stressed as he had been when Connor had first woken scared him more than being in the same room as his supposed best friend. 

After dressing, Connor made way to bring up a pack of cigarettes and started to look desperately for something, probably his lighter. Oh… Said lighter was not going to be found, because Evan had taken it upon seeing it, when Connor had visited the bathroom, yesterday. He just… couldn’t avoid meddling, he didn’t want to feel this powerless. He didn’t want the family to have to suffer this demon, if he so had to take the hit all on his own, not these wonderful people, not Zoe.    
  
After cursing, Connor put the cigarettes on the bed and started looking through another drawer. 

They were just there… so easy. Carefully a hand picked them up. By that time, Evan had found a shirt, that wasn’t his, but it was a shirt and he would have to deal with Connor for using it later, because his own smelled of sex… ugh. They were supposed to be best friend, he could borrow a shirt, or so he told himself. At least he felt a little less naked; he had also found and put on his underwear.    
  
Damnit, there was another lighter, one that Connor brought out of that drawer and turned to grab the package of cigarettes, that had mysteriously vanished. There was a look of confusion on the young man’s face until he noticed that Evan was sitting on his bed, looking down on the package in his hand. 

“Give me that,” he had swirled around quickly, ending up standing in front of the bed, looking down on Evan.    
  
“No.” That was… surprisingly firm. If he was to do anything, if he could do anything, it was making life easier for the rest. Connor shouldn’t smoke, especially not in the house, ruining the house and furniture in the process, making the air uncomfortable, forcing others to smell it. 

“Fucking, just give it to me.”   
  
“No, you are not going to smoke.”   
  
“Fucking-...”    
  
“No.”   
  
Connor tried to reach for the package, but Evan was faster. Fighting for it was no use, Evan was, after all, contrary to popular belief, rather strong. It kind of happened when your favourite hobby was spending time out in nature, climbing, running, walking. It didn’t stop Connor from trying, though. The only times Connor won a physical struggle between the two was when Evan wasn’t trying, and right now, he was definitely trying.    
  
“It’s not even pot, you don’t decide what I do in my house.”   
  
“It’s your parents’, not yours.” 

There was a glare-down for a few moment and funny enough Evan found that he had some resolve in this. This actually mattered. He didn’t feel entirely hopeless, despite the state he was in, and all that had happened. Then the miracle happened.   
  
Connor cursed again and turned his heel, walking out and away. That was… intense and scary, but the other seemed to have given up. He won. Evan won. In all his dread, that was something at least. It took a few moments, but he found his pants, and pocketed the lighter and cigarettes. 

Evan found his best friend in the kitchen, washing a pot that he proceeded to put on the stove. He was obviously mad, and upset, ignoring Evan completely. Evan had learnt that Connor was the type to go completely neutral, shut down and just be bitter when he couldn’t have things his way, to just be passive aggressive and ignore the inconvenience in his surrounding. It felt… pretty bad. The resolve was slowly slipping. He was helping, he knew he was helping! Connor shouldn’t be smoking, wasting his lungs, wasting his life after getting a second chance. Yet… where was his right to interfere? He was a liar and probably a bigger mess than the boy ahead of him, and he had done so many things to harm himself through the years… Yet, smoking really was disgusting, especially when a family member did it, especially… maybe… maybe he could appeal to Connor’s more intellectual side… a tiny spark of hope… 

“... … …”    
  
“What the hell do you want? I thought you were leaving.” Connor didn’t sound angry, he just glanced at Evan for a moment, looking passively dismissive and disapproving, evidently trying to sound unaffected by all of it, evidently not being entirely unaffected. 

Evan stood there in silence for a while, not able to say anything, freezing up a little upon being addressed, and didn’t say a thing… it felt like tar would pour out if he opened his mouth, as if speaking was impossible. He needed a moment to calm his nerves. Connor kept on cooking whatever he was cooking. 

“... … My mother smokes. It’s-... It’s disgusting. It’s really hard to look her in the eyes or be close to her face without feeling a little sick, and being forced to live with it.”    
  
Deep breaths, you can do it. Don’t crack up, voice, you can do it.   
  
“She tries to only do it outside, but it doesn’t help. All my things and clothes always end up smelling like smoke. I’ve been teased for it by my classmates; I’ve had teachers punishing me because they were certain that I was the one smoking, no matter what I said to them. It always hurt so much that she didn’t seem to care if it affected me, forgetting that she wasn’t the only one living there… Worst of all is that she gets so used to it that she doesn’t realise how bad she smells...”

Oh, Connor had stopped and was looking at him. There was evident curiosity in his eyes, but it was so hard to not assume things, to not imagine the judgement in those eyes, to think that the young man would take his words seriously. Connor rolled his eyes… ah, he was probably not taking it seriously. 

“No, worst of all is seeing someone dear to you slowly kill themselves with those things…” He had said it, there. 

Connor was still just staring at him, then after a while he had walked over, causing Evan to take a step back, but then he once more felt lips against his, letting out a whiny sound of surprise. Why was Connor doing this, kissing him with frustration, messing with him like that. He seemed to want to make fun of the reactions, yet he seemed to enjoy himself, getting lost in the kiss, and it made Evan’s heart flutter in ways that made him feel even more ashamed. None of this made sense… It was moments like these, when Connor seemed to need the touch, that Evan found that abandoning the other was too hard, when it all suddenly reminded of his fantasies too much… Then, suddenly, he was pushed up against an empty wall, right next to the fridge, feeling Connor lurk over him, grinning, feeling his own cheeks turn redder than before. 

“If I can’t smoke, then you better be a good distraction.”

It looked like Connor wanted to say something more, but he didn’t, instead he let go and proceeded with the cooking.    
  
Heart punching him hard in the chest and ears ringing, cheeks bright red, Evan sank down to the floor against the wall, curling up in a ball, the same way he usually did; Connor had seen him like this before, it didn’t matter anyway. He just needed to calm… just breathe, damnit. 

There was a while of silence; Connor picked a few things out of the fridge, not at all looking at him. Then, all of a sudden, Evan heard a voice speak, while hiding his face against his knees.    
  
“No one has ever done that before.”   
  
He looked up, staring at Connor, that kept on ignoring him, focusing on the food that he was making, but he opened those soft lips again, continuing.    
  
“I mean, my parents always talked about how smoking is bad and shameful and shit, but they have never actually tried to stop me from doing drugs, or smoking,” he continued, taking a deep breath before he continued further. “They didn’t care enough to actually stop me. I mean, they threw the things away once, but when I was smelling like smoke again they just ignored it, like it wasn’t their problem. Not like you, forcefully trying to keep me from getting to my damn cigarettes…”

Evan recognized the tone of voice, because he was always speaking with it at home. A voice of trying to sound neutral, to not seem like you care about the things that kind of hurt, and are kind of depressing. 

“Never…? Maybe they just gave up…” He had spoken before he really realised it. The Murphy family was really kind, no way they had just let their son handle his behaviour on his own. It was so hard to imagine. They were so good and such a good family…   
  
“Yeah right, they didn’t care about me, they cared about what it looked like, if people knew that their son smoked. They didn’t try.” 

It was true that Connor’s behaviour probably bothered them, especially the way they had talked about him before Evan had started interfering… they had been ashamed. Still, it was probably just because Connor was being so ungrateful, when they tried so much for him. He didn’t want to think of it any other way. Connor shouldn’t have reasons to be so self-destructive. 

“They did care! They do care. They, they’ve shown you just how much they cared now that you woke up.”   
  
“Yeah… as if that’s going to last, I don’t need their fake kindness”   
  
“It could, it’s not fake! If you didn’t act like such an asshole they could have a chance.”

“You never knew them like I do!”   
  
“And you never knew them like I do, you never tried to know them!”   
  
He was getting angry, and he felt it in him, felt his hands clenched into fists all of a sudden, and Connor was clearly getting more aggressive, raising his voice. Funny, it hadn’t even been two weeks but it felt like if they had been having this argument for years, as if it had happened thousands of times. Evan was ashamed of a lot of things, and of how everything had turned out, but the one thing that he wasn’t afraid to speak up about was how ungrateful Connor was for his family. How he had everything. Everything. Everything Evan had never had in his life, right there, and Connor just threw it away like some spoiled brat. He voiced it, he wasn’t scared of telling him how horrible he was. Connor just defended himself, refusing to realise it, refusing to see what a shit he had acted like, seemingly unprovoked. How he had trash talked and treated his sister so bad, and how it wasn’t strange that she did the same. 

  
It had only gotten worse the more times they had this talk, and this… was worse than before. They were both getting more and more emotional, shouting the same arguments at each other. Then, all of a sudden, everything changed.    
  
“Evan. EVAN,-.... I’m gay!”    
  
What. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only the present time situations were actually acted out, aka the mentioned sex and earlier scenarios were just things we had decided upon. What we however had not decided upon was Connor Murphy being gay, hence my surprise was pretty damn genuine. Stay tuned for the next chapter where I got the surprise of a lifetime thrown in my face, acted on the fly by Teddy. - Nathan


	2. The real you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I want to get to know you, the real you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, but seriously, imagine when I sit there on the kitchen floor, all emotional and upset, fighting with Connor Murphy about his family, and he just unloads that rant out of the blue, without me being prepared. That was... insane -Nathan

“Evan. EVAN,-.... I’m gay!”    
  
What.    
  
It felt like another bubble of glass just shattered around him, like he had heard something that simply didn’t fit with the rest of the puzzle of the situation, like some world changing fact that made him lose footing in his argument completely.    
  
“Wha-.. uh… wh…”    
Where had his arguments gone? What was he saying? He had no idea what to-... uh. 

There was an awkward silence for a moment, and something was clear, Connor’s emotions hadn’t settled. The storm that came next shook Evan beyond belief.    
  
“I’m gay, Evan. Gay, homo, fag, you fucking get it?” Was his voice cracking up…? Wha-... Connor sounded so hurt, so much… less intimidating than he usually did. 

“My family cares about me? About their gay son? Tell me, how do you fucking think it feels to hear everyday what a disappointment I am? How do you fucking think it feels to hear how I should cut my hair? How girly I look? That my clothes make me look too feminine? That I am not doing well enough, never like my sister, never as good as my sister? Hearing my sister always tell me how I look girlier than her? How do you think it feels when dad forces me to participate in all those fucking sports I never cared about, never once giving a damn if I actually want to, just wanting his son to be what he expects of him? When dad tells me to man up? To take it like a man? That I am not allowed to fucking cry? When their biggest concern is what the neighbours would think? When me simply being me would be the biggest shame of their damn lives? When the other kids in school bully be and treat me like a damn disease, calling me gay? When I have to be alone in the boys locker room, worrying about getting a fucking erection from being attracted to someone? This would have been so much fucking easier for everyone if I had just disappeared. Their lives would go on just splendid without me.”

The storm ended there, but Evan was quite sure that he was still drowning. What. Connor was… gay? Actually gay? Not just the insult kind of thing that other teens threw around like everyday talk. That was a lot to take in, all those questions were putting his brain in a damned blender, making it hard to think a single coherent thought trail. For a guy like Evan, someone that had always been treated differently, always bullied, always ashamed for who he was… it was surprisingly easy to get behind this. It was so obvious that what Connor described was Hell… was this all true? Did his family know? Had he tried telling them or was he just assuming that they wouldn’t listen?    
  
“U-uh… have you… did you try to tell them, your family?” 

There was a look of hurt and disbelief in Connor’s eyes.    
  
“Telling them? No, fuck no, I haven’t. I won’t.”    
  
“Why-...? They could help you! They do care about you! They didn’t know Connor, they-...”   
  
“EVAN. My dad is a homophobe.”   
  
What.    
  
“Whenever we were out and he saw anything remotely intimate between two males he would always rave on about how disgusting and wrong it was, and how they were a mistake in the eyes of God.” 

That… He wanted so desperately to tell Connor that he was wrong. Larry Murphy wouldn’t be such a man but-... it was hard. He didn’t know. Maybe. When he actually thought about it, it seemed like the exact sort behaviour that said father could have. The baseball glove. The wish for bonding with his son,... on his own terms, not on Connor’s terms. How there was a right way and a way for everything to actually be done, how he always knew the best. Had Evan really been so obsessed with all that he had never had of his own, that he forgot that it might not be what everyone wanted? Was he really that selfish? Fuck-... this, how did one respond to this?    
  
“Mom never dared talking back to dad, it doesn’t matter if she’d care or understand, because she would never do a thing! She has never done a thing, just watched as he kept on saying all those things.”

That was… horrible.    
  
“My sister has always bullied me for how gay I look, do you think I would fucking tell her?”   
  
Zoe… wasn’t she better than bullying someone for sexuality? There were a lot of things to complain about, when it came to Connor, but sexuality was really low… It was probably just sibling fighting, but if she didn’t know that her brother was actually gay she wouldn’t know how badly she was hurting him either.

Silence.    
  
How did this suddenly happen? The story had turned, the terms were all wrong. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. If this was all true, then Connor wasn’t a monster, at all. He was just as unfortunate and messed up as Evan, desperately reaching out, acting out, needing help, without receiving any. This was too sudden to catch up with. How did one readjust in an instant?    
  
“I’m sorry… I didn’t know…”    
  
Evan’s mess of thought trails were interrupted with having a bowl and a spoon handed to him, that he accepted on pure reflex, at that point. Porridge…? Yeah, it looked like breakfast. It smelled of cinnamon, and smelled incredibly good at that. 

Connor wasn’t looking at him, but this time it wasn’t for ignoring him, or out of passive aggressiveness; Evan’s supposed best friend looked emotional, looked uncertain where to turn and what to look at.    
  
“The couch is more comfortable than the floor…” said teenager muttered before he headed over to the living room, next to the kitchen, to sit down in the couch. Was that an invite? Probably. Evan felt his heartbeat punching his chest again, when he sat down in the opposite end of the couch, with breakfast in hand. He couldn’t quite find the courage to really look at Connor, right then. Instead, he awkwardly brought the spoon up and started eating, still deep in thought.    
  
Connor was so different to handle like this. There was such an awkward tension in the air, and the other was still evidently affected by his own confession, in the process having lost all that which was intimidating about him. There was one thing worse than everything else, or uh, maybe better, who really knew. A Connor Murphy which was gay, and not as cruel, that looked like a kicked pup, someone who just needed a hug, that could get uncomfortable and awkward, well, that was a lot more like the Connor Murphy that Evan knew, that made up fiction, the person that had changed his life. That should explain the ridiculous feeling of butterflies in his chest, not necessarily out of clichés and stereotypes, but just the aspect of getting to know Connor, of actually seeing that there was a person hiding behind that monster, the fact that there was a person behind the monster. 

A tiny spark of hope.    
  
Evan didn’t really have any illusions that he had the right to think that he could make a change or a difference… but if Connor Murphy was a person, and not a monster, then that was more than everything he could ask for. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could do something, anything, for the real deal. Don’t think of all those fantasies, little scenarios, of all the best friend stuff, just think of Connor; think of the real thing. You can do it. Anyway, you need to speak, say something, don’t just let it be silent and awkward, uh.    
  
“This… is really good. Mom makes porridge sometimes, but it’s pretty much oat and water… I didn’t think it could taste this good.” It was, there seemed to be banana mixed into the porridge, and it was clearly cooked with milk, and lots of cinnamon. He didn’t expect Connor to be the kind to cook, like, ever, it seemed like Cynthia took care of all of that, in the house, and his sister was worthless at cooking.   
  
In the corner of his vision, Evan could see a subtle smile on Connor’s lips, a bit of relief; there was something else to talk about.    
  
“You don’t put water in porridge, that sucks,” Connor started, sounding amused, a little more lighthearted, but there was still weight and depression clear in his voice, that he did his best to hide; “I bet your mom is the kind to microwave it, too.”    
  
“Yeah, I mean… she’s kinda often in a hurry in the mornings; she leaves early…. So you can actually cook? I mean, your sister is terrible at it.”    
  
“No shit, she is. Yeah, duh, I can.”    


They were smiling, weakly, somewhat falsely, the only way the two of them probably knew to force a smile. There was a bit of a longer silence.    
  
Being gay huh… Connor must have been through so much shit for that, it was hard to even start imagining, yet, Evan felt like he had a pretty decent idea of just how bad that could be. He felt for the other, how the Hell would he be able to not feel for him, for such a thing? How does one address this… It really did not bother Evan if Connor was into men. First of all, he would have been such a hypocrite if it did bother him, after all of his stupid fantasies that he couldn’t help. It must have been so painful for the long haired teenager to be hearing all those comments all his life…    
  
“I-... uh. I think I kinda… like your hair? It’s nice, I think it would look kinda weird if you cut it short.” He wasn’t lying, he kind of adored the thick fluff that was Connor’s hair. Hell, the fact that the young man was so feminine was probably one of the leading reasons why it was somewhat easy to find him attractive. It felt so good to tell Connor that, knowing how many things Evan himself had wished that just anyone could have told him, during most of his life. Just needing anyone, a single person, to say something, to have just anybody waving back as he was desperately reaching out for help. Just a small comment, an honest and causal one.    
  
It worked; Connor turned quickly, looking at him, with somewhat wide eyes, as if he was searching for a lie or mockery, but there was nothing there to indicate it. It felt good to tell the truth, to really mean what you say. Quickly, the teenager averted his eyes again, turning away from Evan.    
  
“... Thanks.” 

Heh, they were both evidently terrible at this. The next one to break the awkward silence that followed, as they ate their breakfast, was Connor.    
  
“Uh… Evan…” he started, and the tone of voice alone left an almost embarrassingly strong reaction of warmth in mentioned young man’s chest. The fact that Connor could sound shy was… unique. Shit, focus. Listen.    
  
“Yeah?”    
  
Whatever the teenager was trying to say, it was obviously hard on him, making the other a little nervous, the nervousness a little infectious, making him worry what Connor was actually going to say. 

  
“Do you… like musicals?”    
  
What.    
  
Uh.    
  
Connor was actually looking at him, and the look of evident embarrassment and shyness made Evan’s heart beat a little faster than he’d like to admit. His head was spinning, not quite having gotten used to the sudden change to well… everything.    
  
“Musicals…? If I like musicals? Uhm.” He didn’t mean for his voice to crack, he was just so confused.    
  
“.... Yeah, musicals.”    
  
“Uh, yeah sure? I mean, I don’t really know…. I like music. Zoe really liked a few musicals so I guess I don’t mind them? Why, do you?” It always felt a little weird to mention Connor’s sister, his own ex, but then it was very hard not to, seeing that she was relevant. The brother didn’t seem to particularly like the mentioning of his sister, either, but didn’t mind enough to get upset.    
  
There was a surprisingly long silence before Connor drew a deep breath. “Yeah, I do,” he started, taking yet another pause, working his way through it slowly, speaking up again. “There’s just that they are playing an adaption of Singing in the Rain in the city and I just thought uh… that you know, since you’re supposed to pretend to be my friend, that maybe if you wanted to go…”    
  
Cute. How on Earth was Connor Murphy cute? This was so different from the attitude he had showed towards everything and everyone, sarcasm, anger, cynical ways and mock annoyance, all peeled off. These words were really hard on Connor, obviously, and he was ashamed. Evan really wanted to make it easier, to find a way to help him. Watching something at the theatre, that seemed so easy, so simple, like no feat at all. He probably had the money for a ticket, and… the thought of actually going out to do something with a friend made him feel… warm and fuzzy. Would they grab something to eat for dinner before or after the thing? Hang out before it? Would Connor have stars in his eyes, getting to do something he enjoyed but evidently didn’t dare to do on his own? Would it feel like they were actually close to one another? That was…   
  
“Yeah, sure;” he cut Connor off, just like that, saving him the embarrassment. Immediately upon the confirmation, there was a little spark lighting up in the eyes of the other, surprisingly endearing, and for a second, there was a subtle smile on his face.    
  
“Great! Uh, I mean great,” he commented, trying to not sound completely over-excited, but evidently, he was excited, and it showed in the way the pitch of his voice went up, before he corrected it.    


Evan couldn’t help but to smile, couldn’t help but to look at Connor, who, in return, was avoiding eye-contact. “So… you like music in general, then? What kind of music?”    
  
_ I want to get to know you, the real you.  _


	3. When everything else fails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words failed him. He wanted to say something. Maybe this was what he actually wanted, maybe everything he actually ever wanted, and needed, was right in front of him… whoa, no no no, don’t think like that, it will just hurt you. It’s fake, but, doesn’t Connor want it to be real, too?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we all know how life has a tendency to get in the way of writing. I am publishing a shorter chapter, hoping to update soon again, but at least it's something. Thank you for the encouraging and lovely comments, it really made us both want to get back into this story ~  
> \- Nathan
> 
> Warning: This chapter mentions self-harm, but not very graphically, or dramatically.

_I want to get to know you, the real you._

_\--_

Apparently, Connor Murphy was the type of person to like just any type of music, and to adore musicals, well written lyrics and theatre arrangements. Funny, he had seemed like the type to only listen to really depressing things. Apparently he played guitar, just like his sister, but didn’t usually sing, even if he seemed to want to, not quite wanting to admit it. Evan had to admit that he could sing, and school had often made use of the fact that he could sing, just like his mother, even if he didn’t have a particular interest to perform on stage, not to mention how nervous he could get. It was true, and he had avoided any sort of stage presence since years and years back. 

Talking had slowly gotten easier, and suddenly they were talking about everything between the sun and the moon. They were looking at videos, but this time, it wasn’t just to avoid awkward silence; this time, they were actually browsing through short skits of stand up comedy and videos that were genuinely fun, things that Connor actually wanted to show him.

When did Connor end up sitting a little closer to him? He had made tea for the both of them, and then just sat down, this time not far off on the edge of the couch; Evan had barely noticed. Suddenly he just felt the warmth against his side, of another person. From experience, he knew that Connor had a tendency to be very warm, he probably had a rather high metabolism, for starters. It was… actually not that sudden. It wasn’t the first time, either. Maybe it wasn’t that strange for the teenager to seek out contact, if he was, well, gay, and that lonely, but to this point, Evan had just considered it being Connor’s way of messing with him. He had noticed just how much the other young man was aware of his effect on Evan, and just how much it affected the liar to have the real deal all too close to him, and all too close to his fantasies. Then well, after the sex, it kind of became natural, more than it should be, as if some sort of boundary had been overstepped, already. It had always felt like a terrible mix of emotions, of guilt, worry, discomfort, and still so much comfort and desire for closeness… damn, the both of them were pretty tragic, weren’t they? Probably.   
  
After a while, he found himself hiding against Connor’s shoulder, grabbing lightly at the fabric of the shirt the other was wearing, as he tried to hinder another outburst of laughter, after his friend put on a video of some sort of comedian telling the audience about [a prank involving way too many rubber ducks.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f5d8pVg3Qtgl) Apparently, Connor had seen the video before and really wanted to show him, to show his friend something funny… that was,.. Endearing. 

A bit later, Evan found himself more or less laying down in the couch, his head resting in Connor’s lap, gazing up at the teenager above him, who had started talking, or well, perhaps ranting, about the fact that his family never did anything to help.    
  
“..Therapy, no way, can’t send our lovely son to therapy; what would the neighbours think,” he muttered.    
  
Finally Evan was starting to have an actual clear view of what living in the Murphy family had actually been like. He was starting to feel really bad for Connor.   
  
“Heh, well, therapy is sort of overrated… They just sit there and tell you shit you already know about your problems and things you’ve already tried out… They don’t actually listen…” 

_ I’d much rather have a friend.  _

The more time that passed, the more he wished he had just talked to Connor that day, found him after he had stormed off. Maybe everything could have been so different… Maybe he wouldn’t have had to lie, maybe they could have been real friends. Maybe he could have approached Zoe without a thousand lies, or even, maybe… Connor. The amount of shivers that thought sent down his spine made his head spin slightly.    
  
Like this, Connor just kept on reminding him of how the friendship wasn’t real, but when he did, he somehow looked sad, and hurt. Evan wasn’t that blind, Connor was… surprisingly open with his emotions and surprisingly easy to read when his walls were down. Whenever he put in a remark by calling Evan a liar, or by reminding him that they were faking it, he looked as hurt as the liar. Maybe it was just Evan, really, but this didn’t feel fake. It didn’t feel like they were forcing it. It didn’t feel like it was beyond them to manage to have something real. It was recent, and maybe not the best indication, but it was at least something, more than Jared had ever offered him, more than anyone else did. This morning was giving way for that tiny possibility, for the possibility of a friend, signs he hadn’t seen before giving them a chance. He wanted it… 

Could he have it? Was he allowed to have it, after all that he had done? Would he ruin this, like he had ruined everything else? Would it be better to just slam on the brake again, to just let this be. Last time he stuck his head out, last time he faced the sun, he had created this mess. Would it really be okay if someone would see the worst of him? Would Connor understand him, would he like what he saw, or would he hate it like everyone else?    
  
Words failed him. He wanted to say something. Maybe this was what he actually wanted, maybe everything he actually ever wanted, and needed, was right in front of him… whoa, no no no, don’t think like that, it will just hurt you. It’s fake, but, doesn’t Connor want it to be real, too?    
  
How would he convey that he wanted this? He felt too guilty to speak, too nervous to mess up, too much of a mess to handle it. Connor had earlier made very clear that the day he had signed the cast, he had been having a tiny spark of hope that maybe they could have talked, a faint wish for a friend. Evan had ruined all that when Connor had found the letter, making it all seem as if he had deliberately tried to befriend Zoe’s brother, to get closer to her. It wasn’t what he intended, at all. He had tried to say it, but Connor hadn’t wanted to listen. Maybe he would know… could he say it?    
  
How did he explain to Connor that in the midst of making up all these lies, he had accidentally come to care so much about the Connor Murphy that he had invented, that he had wished for nothing more than all of that, all of this, to be real. Now when Connor was… a lot like that invention, or well, strongly reminded him of it, it was impossible to not yearn desperately, to not want him, to not want a friend, to not want… ugh. He couldn’t say it.    
  
How did he convey to Connor how badly he had wanted, dreamed of even, to be his friend…

“Hey, have you, you know, self harmed…?” Connor spoke up all of a sudden, dragging him out of the thought trails, once more taking him off guard. Wha-.. uh. Sure, they had been having serious discussions for a while, now, and Connor had left to clean up in the kitchen, and called out from there. The lack of furniture, and cleanliness, made it easy to hear sounds between the kitchen and living room, as the sounds bounced around. Besides, Connor’s face had appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, watching him from afar, looking that unsure and shy again. 

Uhm… well, there was no real reason to hide the fact that he was a mess that way, right? Connor already knew, there wasn’t anything he’d ruin further,.. Probably not. As disgusted as Evan was with himself… no, this was everyday sort of pain, he could probably take that much.   
  
“... Haven’t you seen my arms, you know, when we- uh… yeah, I mean, kinda, in the past, I don’t, not anymore, I stopped.” It was always hard to admit these things, but not that hard, surprisingly, not as hard as he imagined that it would be, not to a kid that had been through pretty much the same thing.    
  
Why did Connor want to know…?   
  
“I didn’t see anything on your arms,” Connor responded, still watching him, still evidently wanting something.    
  
“Yeah well,-... it has healed up pretty well, it was kind of long ago now…” 

The long haired teenager nodded and disappeared off in the kitchen, almost making it look like he retreated. After a while, Evan heard another comment come out from the kitchen, but with no face to follow it, not giving away exactly what emotions were hidden behind the voice.    
  
“How did you manage to stop?”   
  
Lucky that the other was in the kitchen, then he couldn’t see just how much Evan looked like a deer caught in a headlight, and felt his cheeks start burning red. Uhm. Well. He wanted to say something, but there was no way he could actually be honest with how he managed to stop. That was a secret he hadn’t ever really told anyone, and very embarrassing… he wasn’t sure he could open up to anyone about that.    
  
“... I found other distractions and it kinda just didn’t become relevant anymore… If you get my meaning, eh...”   
  
Very convincing. Not. Ugh. Well, it wasn’t a lie, at least.    
  
Connor didn’t seem to like the response, but didn’t seem that suspicious of it being a lie, at least. They started talking about other things again, like how he actually did help a lot more in the house than Zoe, and if she didn’t, she always had a reason and excuse for it; if Connor didn’t help out, it was always just because he was lazy, according to their parents. That was sort of unfair, but Evan could see where they were coming from, not knowing Connor at all, not knowing or understanding his life or passing time, the way they knew Zoe had a social life, activities, did well in school and so on. 

  
During all this time, Evan had an idea. Connor once more pointed out that Evan didn’t technically have to listen to his bullshit and problems, given that they weren’t actually friends, and when mentioned fake friend couldn’t come up with a response, he realised that he’d have to figure out a plan, to do it. Just, try. He couldn’t possibly make a worse mess than he already had, or at least, so he hoped. This would be… hard. Fuck, he had to try. Fine.    
  
After taking a deep breath, he walked off, disappearing back into Connor’s room, where he brought a notebook out of his bag, that he had shoved in a corner. He sat down on the bed, proceeding to start scribbling down words, one after another.    
  
It wasn’t a letter, he was done with those damned letters.    
  
Yet, words flowed, seeing they were so well rehearsed, and nothing new, he had written them down so many times, although, never expecting that anyone would read them.   
  
“...What are you doing?”


End file.
